


i was doing fine ( til i saw your face )

by bambilong



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, How Do I Tag, Jon Snow is Not a Targaryen, Love Confessions, Past Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen, Robb Stark is a Gift, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, aka dany drinks her problems away, all the characters are in high school don't ask me how, missandei is an angel, no incest allowed at my daensa party, robb stark is also an asshole
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-05
Updated: 2019-09-05
Packaged: 2020-10-10 17:07:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20531534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bambilong/pseuds/bambilong
Summary: There was a time that Dany had gone months without so much as glancing at the redhead, but now here she was, fingertips itching at the screen of her phone.There’s a number of texts, almost exclusively all from Daenerys herself, seemingly going unanswered. Unnoticed. And Daenerys hated this feeling. She could deal with being unwanted, could deal with an argument that ends with fuck you, stay away from me, but that’s not what this was. That’s not what this felt like.





	i was doing fine ( til i saw your face )

**Author's Note:**

> title's from "the less i know the better" by tame impala and daenerys is a mess in this

It’d been a week.

A _ week_, since Daenerys had last spoken to Sansa.

That’s longer than she’s _ ever _ gone without talking to her, or at least she thinks. There was a time that Dany had gone months without so much as _ glancing _ at the redhead, but now here she was, fingertips itching at the screen of her phone.

There’s a number of texts, almost exclusively all from Daenerys herself, seemingly going unanswered. Unnoticed. And Daenerys _ hated _ this feeling. She could deal with being unwanted, could deal with an argument that ends with _ fuck you, stay away from me, _ but that’s not what this was. That’s not what _ this _ felt like.

_ This_, was the feeling that Daenerys was so unremarkable that she didn’t even earn the courtesy of a blocked number, nor was she blocked off of any of Sansa’s social media. Not even her _ private _account, which she used to vent about various transgressions. Not even an indirect, not even a mention of the girl who she claimed she was head over heels for.

And, _ yeah, _maybe Dany’s a bit fucked up for wanting a nasty mention on social media, or a dismissive text, maybe it’s weird she even wants that sort of attention.

She got it, once. She sent fifteen texts in a row, about how she was _ sorry, _ about how she _ missed her _ , about how she was curious if _ Sansa lost her phone in a ditch. _

… and all she got in response was an ‘_are you drunk right now?’ _

Which, okay. She was, but still.

It’s Missandei’s voice that pulls her back.

“Can’t you just _ call _her?” She questions, and Daenerys wonders how long she’s been staring at her phone.

“_No,” _ Dany’s reply is quick, simple. “I don’t — I don’t wanna _ hear _her voice.”

“You just want to stare at your phone, angrily, until you go blind.” And she’s got that _ look, _ the one she always gives Dany when she _ knows _Dany’s being an ass.

“Yeah, actually, if you wouldn’t mind,” she sounds exasperated, and it’s because she is.

“Don’t stop on my account,” Missandei’s giggling, and Dany’s smile betrays her before she can help it. “You’re going to Jaime’s party tonight, right?”

“He doesn’t like me much.”

“Tyrion does. It's why he invited you,” and that’s… semi-reasonable.

“What if I told you I just wanted to stay in?” Dany quips.

“I’d call you a liar,” Missandei is standing, suddenly, going into Dany’s closet in spite of the noise of protest it earns. “‘Cause that’s what you’d be.”

Daenerys _ groans, _ flopping back on her mattress and staring at the ceiling. She wonders if she stares hard enough, _ angry _ enough, would the sky fall down upon her? Because that’s what she _ wants, _or for the earth to swallow her whole. It doesn’t matter either way, because Missandei starts throwing articles of clothing at her without warning, causing Dany to sputter various questioning noises.

“Get _ dressed, _ we’re _ going,” _ she demands, even coming over to pull Dany up by the arm. “You can’t be depressed over her forever, okay? What happened, happened. It wasn’t _ entirely _ your fault.”

“_You _ weren’t there, y’know,” she mutters back, though she stands anyway. “You didn’t see her _ face, _it was like I pulled the rug out from under her, and —“ she cuts herself off with a sigh, fingers easing over the fabric of the dress Missandei chucked at her.

“You weren’t ready,” her friend reasons.

“Don’t think I’ll ever be ready,” she retorts.

“One day.”

And that’s decidedly the end of the conversation, the end of all foreseeable conversations about Sansa to come, because Dany’s suddenly fueled with a need to do something _ else, _ something that’s less _ irritating _ than thinking of a _ Stark. _

She gets ready with ease, has been to enough of these parties to know what to wear, how to do her hair, her makeup. If Daenerys Targaryen knows how to do one thing right, it's how to put on a _ show, _ a façade. She’d been doing it her whole life, hiding behind a name and a face. Her father was nothing short of a monster, inside and out of his business. Daenerys was _ smart, _ smarter than both of her brothers, never once failed a class or needed help with a problem. If she did have one problem, it was that she trusted people too much in her youth. Dated a senior, _ Drogo, _when she was barely a freshman, and that was enough to nearly make her swear off men for life, ’til she met Jon. Sansa’s cousin.

That was where the real trouble began, they’d had dated for nearly two years before Jon left her cold and alone. It was something she didn’t talk of often, and that was on purpose. Sansa had known, their family was tight knit so of _ course _ she did, but what she didn’t know was the way that Daenerys felt just by thinking of him. The very sight of him nauseated her, and the _ thought _of him knowing about the two made her want to crawl out of her own skin.

_ It doesn’t matter, _ Daenerys’ thoughts try to tell her as she’s pulling up to the Lannister’s, _ she hates you now anyway. _ And Sansa hates the Lannister’s, too, ever since Jaime got into that fight with one of her brother years ago, so she’s _ positive _Sansa’s not gonna be here.

That is until she runs directly into _ Robb Stark _ crossing the threshold of the kitchen, with Margaery Tyrell on his arm.

“Dany!” Margaery exclaims, leaning in to press a kiss to the girls cheek. She’s always so formal, always excited to see everyone. Dany briefly wants to ask her if her face is stuck like that. Robb is decidedly less enthused to see her, only nodding at her out of a courtesy.

“We didn’t expect to see you,” Marg explains, mostly to fill the silence.

“Why? I didn’t die,” Dany laughs, slightly unnerved.

“Oh, well, I just thought —“

“Sansa’s here.” Robb _ helpfully _fills the gaps, and Dany freezes against the drinks counter.

She’s reminded, suddenly, that Missandei is there, because Missandei is _ sighing. _ “I thought you guys hated the Lannister’s,” she says. _ I thought we’d be safe from the drama, _ is what she _ wants _ to say. Robb just _ grins, _tips his drink to the two of them, and Dany doesn’t get the opportunity to swing at him because he’s already left, like he knew.

“We can still have fun,” Missandei reasons, a gentle hand placed at Dany’s shoulder. “It’s a big house, you probably won’t even se —“

There’s a laugh, in the other room. Helpfully, it’s an open concept floor plan, everyone can see everyone, but even if Daenerys couldn’t _ see _ her, she would mix that laugh up anywhere.

_ Don’t look, don’t, don’t — _

Part of that pleading is her, her own brain. The other part is Missandei. She looks regardless.

Sansa looks _ pretty, _ as per usual, and it makes Daenerys’ face shift into something less angry, less tired, to something a little more soft. She fucking _ hates _it.

But what she hates more, more than _ anything else, _ is the way her gut _ twists _ as she watches _ Theon Greyjoy _ drape his arm over her shoulders. Daenerys makes two decisions then.

1.) She is going to _ ruin _Theon Greyjoy’s life.

2.) She’s going to pick a bottle of whatever expensive vodka Cersei picked out for tonight, and down the whole thing.

She does the latter first.

— — —

The night goes by faster than Daenerys had originally thought it was going to.

Despite Missandei’s protests, the vodka helps. It helps a _ lot, _ slows her thoughts and forces her to have fun for once. She dances for the first time it what felt like years, talks to people she’s never spoken to, and shows surprising adeptness in completely _ avoiding _Sansa Stark.

She thinks she’s even seen Sansa look over at her, perhaps even stare, and all it does is make her _ laugh _.

One thing the vodka _ doesn’t _help with, is walking.

She’s walking to get away from some guy that’s taken interest in her, mostly because she’s _ extremely _ uninterested in him, and walking outside seems to be the best bet. That is, until she _ keeps _ walking, _ forgets _ that they have a pool, and _ promptly _falls in.

Falling into a pool with about as much grace as a newborn deer isn’t enough for her to be upset over, she’s even decided that the pool is _ nice, _ it’s only when she resurfaces and see’s Sansa’s face looming over her that she truly feels like she’s _ sinking. _

“… Are you _ okay? _” She questions, face looking as concerned as she sounds.

There's a thousand things she could say to _ that _ , in response. _ No, _ comes to mind first, before _ fine, _ and _ just ducky ( ! ) _ follow afterwards. But the alcohol is stirring her most venomous thoughts, so of _ course _ she ends up spitting out a, “why do _ you _care?”

Daenerys watches as the words sink in, watches her face shift from one emotion to the next, _ shocked, sad, angry, back to sad, kinda confused, _but she doesn’t say anything. Just stares back at Dany for a long, long time, before offering her hand.

Dany blinks between Sansa’s face and her hand, curious if it's some sort of trap. Debates on pulling her in with her, wonders what that would even accomplish. She, instead, braces one hand against the wall of the pool, uses the other to grab Sansa’s hand as prompted. Sansa’s unsurprisingly _ strong, _ pulling her out with little help from the other. She stares at Daenerys, a mixed expression etched into her features, and then turns to walk back into the house. Dany blinks, and _ no, _ she doesn’t want her to walk away from this. _ Not again. _

So she follows.

She only realizes after nearly slipping into the staircase that she’s headed to the upstairs bathroom. The doors open when Daenerys makes the climb, and she’s got a towel extended, like she knew Daenerys would follow her up there.

Knows her a little _ too _well, Dany thinks, before taking the towel to dry off her limbs.

They don’t speak, for a while. Sansa’s found the shower tiles extremely interesting apparently, and Daenerys is too busy staring into the sink and trying not to flee. It’d be easy, she thinks. She’s fairly dry now, could just run out at a moments notice and slide down the stairs, _ Home Alone _ style. Might knock out a few people in the process, but that’s a small price to pay.

She doesn’t have the opportunity to, because Sansa finally decides to speak.

“I got your texts,” is all that comes out.

Dany can’t help the laugh, but it’s _ bitter. _“Glad to know your phone still works.”

“I didn’t —“ Sansa starts, cuts her off with a sigh. “I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to text you and say I couldn’t talk to you right now, but you — I know you. You wouldn’t let it go.”

And _ that _stings. Twists her insides in a way that she really, really hates. It’s not undeserved, and she’s aware it’s true, she just didn’t want to hear it.

Dany waits several beats, blinks at herself in the mirror. “I’m not apologizing,” her voice is flat.

Now, it’s Sansa that laughs. “Of course you’re not.”

“I don’t _ owe _ you an apology,” she continues. “You know _ why _I didn’t want to.”

“Didn’t want to _ what? _ Admit that after six months we’re _ dating?” _

_ Had it really been that long? _

“You know why I can’t just _ — be as open _as you.”

“Jon,” Sansa says, stands up. She sounds exhausted. Daenerys doesn’t even know what time it is. “Because of _ Jon? _ I don’t know _ why _ you think he’d _ care _ so much —“

“Because _ you _ weren’t in a _ relationship _ with him, Sansa.” And now Dany’s looking at her, _ really _looking at her, and Sansa stops dead in her tracks. Stares at her for a moment, like that thought hadn’t crossed her mind. 

“He’s your cousin,” she starts again, slowly. “And I get that. But he’s not that _ good boy _ outside of your family dynamics, okay? So if I don’t wanna jump at the chance to give him something _ else _ to ruin for me, then I’m _ sorry.” _

It’s a tense moment, with Sansa just staring at her the way that she is. Its times like this that Dany really hates the fact that she’s taller than her, because Daenerys can almost feel herself shrinking as the seconds turn into minutes. Even goes to _ leave, _but then —

“I’m the one that should be sorry.”

Daenerys is _ dizzy. _“What?”

“The night that we fought, I — I thought you just didn’t want to put a label on it. We’ve been seeing each other for months now, and you never really talked about it, and I didn’t even consider Jon as a factor, not like _ that, _ and _ God, _I bet your dad would be a nightmare —“

Dany blinks. She hasn’t cared what her father has thought of her since she was fifteen. 

“It was inconsiderate of me,” Sansa’s talking a mile a minute. “I just, I love you, and —“

And that’s where the room _ stops _ spinning, for the first time in the last hour. Sansa freezes, recoils like she’s said something wrong, or like the severity of the statement has sunken in. Daenerys is _ staring, _ can feel that she is, but she can’t _ stop. _ No matter how much her brain is screaming at her to give this poor girl a _ break. _

_ I should say I love her too, _ she thinks. _ I shouldn’t say _ ** _anything, _ **another part of her shouts.

No one ever said Daenerys was good with words, at least not to her recollection, so what she does is neither. What she does is lean up, faster than someone could tell her to stop, presses her lips to Sansa’s.

Sansa’s still frozen, for at least another thirty seconds, before she melts into it. It’s not intense, Daenerys thinks it might be the most chaste thing she’s ever engaged in with Sansa, but it’s to make a point. They’re both _ stupid. _

When Daenerys draws back, it’s barely an inch. “Thought I fucked up,” Sansa breaks the silence, for the second time that night.

Daenerys is laughing again, but this time it’s genuine. “It’s about time, if you ask me,” because Sansa is perfect in ways Daenerys never sees herself achieving.

“I didn’t ask you,” she points out.

“No, you didn’t.”

Sansa’s smile is _ real_, the realest thing Dany’s ever seen, even though her fingers are getting caught in Dany’s chlorine matted hair. “You wanna go home?”

Dany knows she means _ her _ home, which is the only house she’s ever felt comfortable in anyway. She nods.

As they descended down the Lannister’s stairs, Dany catches Robb’s eye again, _ why is he still here, _is her first thought. But he’s smiling, actually smiling at his sister and her, fingers laced together. He raises his glass once more.

Daenerys politely uses her other hand to flip him off.

**Author's Note:**

> feedback appreciated !  
twitter: gaymra  
tumblr: jediquill


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